His voice was lazy, laced with an unreadable hint of amusement.
Lianne raised a hand, the pad of her finger brushing the corner of her eye.
'I wasn't crying.'
Lianne didn't argue with him about whether she had cried. Catching sight of his rain-soaked shoulder out of the corner of her eye, she leaned closer to him.
'The young master, who was used to calling the shots, had better not get sick. If he did, she would most likely be the one to suffer. After all, one sick day from him was a full day of trouble.'
At that moment, Lianne didn't realize that Seth Sinclair was jealous. She was just concerned for him, simply wanting him to be okay.
That was all.
The two entered the hotel side by side, handing the umbrella to the doorman at the entrance.
As they walked unhurriedly toward the elevator bank, the hotel manager and staff nearby couldn't help but steal a few glances in their direction.
